


Magic Isn't Real

by BirdBoneGirl



Category: Highlander: The Series, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdBoneGirl/pseuds/BirdBoneGirl
Summary: Dean and Castiel attempt to find Jack who is lost in a parallel Universe only to find themselves in the Highlander Universe. Duncan has his worldview shaken meeting an angel from another place.





	1. Lightening Strikes

Dean coughed himself awake, rolling to his side, which hurt, and sitting up to take in his surroundings. Brushing off the dust from his sleeves, he looked around through the gloom. 

He was in what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. A light popped overhead, showering sparks down, momentarily revealing the destruction around him. Then he spotted the body sprawled across a stack of broken pallets, and he quickly pushed himself to his feet. 

As he approached he recognized the tan trench coat. “Cas!” He ran over to him, touching his arm and face to make sure he was alive. Castiel’s eyes opened suddenly and latched onto him. He coughed and pushed himself up on the shifting pile of broken wood.

“Cas, where are we?” Dean asked, lending his arm to aid him getting off the debris. Cas took it, and hoisted himself to his feet with an easy motion. 

Cas looked around, Dean knew he probably saw far more than he did, able to read down to the molecules in the air. 

“I’m not..” he squinted, “sure.” tilting his head. 

“You’re hurt,” Cas said and placed a hand to his cheek. Blue light took over Dean’s vision momentarily as the healing energy suffused him. The stabbing pain in his side, a dull ache in his head, and as well as various other aches and twinges he hadn’t been paying attention to, subsided. 

Dean nodded gratefully to Cas, feeling bereft when his hand was removed from his face. 

It was then that Dean heard something. It was a familiar sound, but one that took him a moment to identify.

“Is that...,” his mind didn’t want to believe it but too many movies had told him what it was, “sword fighting?” Dean asked, incredulous. 

Cas looked skeptical and they moved towards the warehouse door, to investigate. As they left the building they saw the strangest site. Two men in long trench coats were going at each other with full sized, very sharp looking, swords.

The swords clashed and sparked in the fading light of day, as the combatants moved through steps effortlessly. Each able to counter strokes of the other, both looked to be true masters of the craft. 

“Dean, I-“ Cas began, but Dean put out his arm to stop him. 

“Shhh, i don’t think we should draw attention to ourselves,” Dean whispered, pulling him by his beige trench coat to the sidle behind some barrels where they could watch the fight without detection.

“Why are those men fighting with swords?” Cas asked him, as if Dean was supposed to know.

“How the hell should I know? You brought us here!” Dean whispered loudly back.

Clang, clang, electricity sparked up the blades. Dean looked over at Cas, what the hell was this?

“You’re finished MacLeod!” Shouted the man with a broadsword at the one with a dark ponytail and wielding what looked to be a Katana.

Ponytail grinned maniacally and sidestepped his thrust easily, coming around with his Katana to slice at his leg.

The man roared in pain and jumped back, his trench fluttering around him. Around they went, again trading blows once more. 

“Someone else is here,” Cas observed. Dean peeled his eyes from the spectacle to look where Cas was indicating. In the shadow of one of the abandoned buildings, stood a gray haired man with a cane looking pensive. From their vantage the man would be hidden, but from where Dean and Cas crouched he was just barely visible.

This was all very odd.

“Who are these guys?” Dean asked, not really expecting an answer.

“I am not sure,” Cas said, squinting, “but both of them have an odd aura about them.”

“In what way? Demons?” Dean asked.

“No, they appear to be human… but it’s like they both have more… soul than they should.” Dean gave Cas a sharp look at that explanation. 

“... but they aren’t demons? Knights of hell?”

Cas shook his head. “No. It is something I’ve never seen before.”

“Great,” Dean muttered, something new was always fun. Clenching his teeth he turned back to the show.

It would be over soon, both had taken minor flesh wounds. “Broadsword” had taken a hit to his thigh and “Ponytail” had taken one to his side. 

“You cannot have her, she is mine, MacLeod!” So Ponytail had a name and it was MacLeod, good to know. Dean knew he would still think of him as Ponytail. Also that name tickled something in his memory banks but he couldn’t put his finger on what piece of lore it was.

“That’s your problem Kalen, you will never understand that she belongs to no-one! Leave her alone and you can walk away,” Macleod panted heavily, his feet circling around him with only slightly less grace than before.

Dean frowned, were these to dueling over a woman? Did people duel anymore?

“Ha! You coward! You know I have won!” Shouted Kalen rushing MacLeod and stabbing him through the gut. 

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but Dean was shocked to realize these men were going to kill each other.

Dean saw the man in the shadows start forward, looking worried. 

Ponytail stepped through the blow, side sliced, and turned around with one swift swoop of the blade…

...and decapitated the man.

Dean had to bite his tongue to keep the curse back. 

Now, Dean had seen his share of decapitations in his life. He had precipitated most of them to be sure. Vamps needed beheading, it was just the way it was. But Cas had just told him these men were most likely human, so to watch them kill each other, by beheading, was outright insane. Who did that?

Dean began to inch backwards, they had to get out of this place. 

They hadn’t seen anything yet. For ‘Ponytail’ had finally succumbed to the pain of his wounds, falling to his knees the sky grew rapidly darker and wind seemed to spring to life around them. Cas instinctually crowded behind him and Dean could almost feel his wings starting to manifest as protection around them. It made Dean uneasy that Cas was acting worried.

“What is it?”

“Something is happening, something powerful is coming,” Cas tried to explain. 

“Should we leave?”

“I would like to see what it is. I can get us away quickly if we need now that my wings are healed,” Dean nodded as the wind whipped around them.

Lightning struck out of the clear sky and hit Ponytail. The man went rigid, clutching his sword to keep from falling completely, convulsing as electricity seemed to engulf him. Then another bolt, and another, a deep rumbling filled the air and a strange glow, familiar and yet strange, moved out of the decapitated body.

“Is that a soul?” Dean asked, huddled against the angel.

“Yes,” Cas affirmed his assumption. “Though it seems…large for one person.”

They watched as the supersized soul moved from the headless guy to the man being struck heavily by lightning. The convulsed again as the glow suffused him and the lightning began to dissipate. He slumped forward, laying down his sword before him carefully, as he clutched his stomach. 

Dean glanced over at the shadowy figure, and saw he had relaxed and was now sitting on a box. So his guy had won. Then the man looked over at him and they made eye contact. He started up to standing again.

“Mac! We have visitors!” He called over to his friend. 

“I'm a little busy dying, Joe!” Ponytail called back.

“Should we go?” Dean asked Cas, still not sure where they were or where they would run to.

“If the man is dying, I should heal him,” Cas said. 

Dean thought this over. Ponytail tried to stand, but groaned holding his stomach. Dean suddenly realized he was actually holding in his guts from spilling out. Cas was probably his only hope of surviving.

“Well, at least you’ll fit in,” Dean told Cas, indicating to his coat. 

Making a decision that he hoped wouldn’t get him killed Dean put his gun into the back of his jeans and raised his hands, stepping out from behind the barrel. “We come in peace,” he called out, Cas standing behind him ready to move. The man Ponytail had called ‘Joe’ was looking him up and down. “My friend here can heal “Ponytail” if you like…” Dean offered. He figured if these guys had some weird magic lightening, a little angel healing wouldn’t bother them much. Right?

Joe looked astonished at this statement and he looked over to Ponytail for help, but the man had collapsed, his sword dropping to the ground. Blood was beginning to pool around him onto the concrete. Castiel was suddenly at the man’s side, the sounds of wings indicating his flight across the tarmac, kneeling down ready to heal him.

“Wait!” Joe called, walking with an odd gait and leaning heavily on his cane in what looked like his top speed.

“Dean,” Cas called out, his gravelly voice lower than usual. He looked up giving him and Joe a tortured look “He’s dead.”

“Should I heal him?” Cas asked. 

Dean yelled “Yes”, but Joe yelled “No!” At the same time and kept saying no as he came at them. 

Cas and Dean both turned to the gray haired man huffing from the exertion of walking across the asphalt. Perplexed. 

“Just… wait,” He panted. 

Castiel was still looking to Dean for what he should do.

“It’s really no trouble to heal him,” Dean explained to the man. 

Joe stopped, flinging his hands, cane and all into the air “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he told them, his voice low through clenched teeth.

“Isn’t he your friend? You called out to him...You would rather he be dead?” Dean was really quite confused by all this. 

“Look, I don't know who you two are, or how you just teleported,” his voice kind of broke on that word. “but I do know not to interfere with this.”

“So you’re just going to let him die?” Dean asked the man, incredulous.

“Not exactly…” he said, looking anxious.

“It won’t hurt him,” Cas told him earnestly. 

The man huffed out a breath that steamed in the chilling air. “Look, he’ll be-“ and just then the man came to, with a big choking breath and pushed himself off the ground, “fine.” Joe ended his sentence, looking relieved.

Ponytail, however was scooting away from Cas grabbing up his fallen Katana. Putting it between himself and the angel. Castiel stood up straight, towering over him with absent minded menace.

“Who the hell are you?” Ponytail managed through a cough.

Dean and Cas gaped at the man, he could see clearly that his stomach wound had healed up. Completely closed but for a smear of blood.

“Cas? Did you heal him,” Dean asked.

Cas shook his head, “No, this man told me not to.”

“What is he?” Dean asked, “Angel? Nephilim?”

Cas shook his head again. “I told you, he seems to be human… ish.”

“Angel?” Joe said, looking like he’d been hit in the head.

Ponytail had risen to his feet, sword still in hand, pointing between them as if trying to determine who was the bigger threat. 

“I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod,” he declared, still brandishing his sword as if he would fight them if he had to. He didn’t look like he was up for much more, having fought for his life, been electrocuted and apparently died, all in a half hour. Dean had to admit his drive was admirable. 

“Dean Winchester,” Dean said, pointing to himself “this is Cas, ” Dean said.

Castiel turned to Duncan, “What are you exactly? Why do you have so many souls inside you? And how are they not ripping you apart?” In an aside to Dean he added, “Well, I suppose that is possible, you carried thousands in you to kill Amara after all.”

Duncan didn’t answer, looking seriously spooked by Castiel and his questions. Dean stayed silent trying not to remember the feeling of all that power, all those souls snaking through him as he barely held himself from being torn apart. He wondered if this MacLeod fellow was feeling something similar at the moment.

But it was Joe who broke the long silence.“Hey Mac, maybe we should move this conversation somewhere else,” Joe said nervously. “You did just put on a light show.”

Duncan nodded at Joe, finally lowering his sword. 

“Shouldn’t you, uh, take care of the body?” Dean asked as Ponytail, er, Duncan MacLeod, stuffed his sword inside his trench coat.

“I- uh usually just let the police deal with it,” Duncan said pointedly.

Dean frowned, there was a lot to unpack with that. He “usually” let the police handle it? So this fighting to the death was something he had done before. And not just before, but regularly. Before he found his tongue the man laughed at him. “I’m kidding. Yeah, we should probably deal with him first.” He said more soberly staring down at the decapitated body. “Dumb bastard, I wasn't even sleeping with his wife. I didn’t want to fight him.”

“They always seem to want to fight you,” Joe commented. So not only was this a regular occurrence, this man had witnessed this before. Beheading, “light show” and all.

“Where were you planning on ditching this?” Dean asked. Mentally preparing the disposal of the body as he had so many before. Now that he was certain these two were some sort of supernatural being, he was nonplussed about the body. 

“I could take care of the body,” Castiel interjected. 

Dean shrugged, “That would certainly make things faster.” And Castiel nodded, kneeling next to the body and disappeared.

Duncan and Joe jumped about six feet in the air at that.

“What the-“

Before they could utter the word “Hell” Cas had returned in a flutter of wings. 

“I dropped him in the ocean,” Cas told him proudly. 

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks Cas,” he turned to the spooked pair. “So where are we going?”

“How did he-” MacLeod gaped at them both. 

“I am an angel of the lord, “ Cas said and before Dean could stop him he started to glow, it was in series sight with the sun setting in the sky at the same time. His wings shadows on a pink and orange background, his eyes glowing blue and the angelic whine of his true voice bleeding into this reality. 

MacLeod steadied Joe with a hand on his back as he seemed to sway on his feet.

It was over in a few seconds, light, wings and whine leaving an odd silence behind. 

Dean clapped his hands to dispel the tension. “Right, you said something about a bar?” And marched past the stunned pair as if he knew where he was going.


	2. Getting to Know You

Duncan watched the newcomers warily, he made the leader, this Dean, sit up front with him. He wasn't going to let him ride behind him in case he decided to attack. Something about that man exuded a deadly grace, his sculpted features and rosebud lips made him pretty, but he was obviously up for a fight. He knew the type well. He’d killed plenty.

The angel fellow had opted to drive with Joe, all the while protesting that he could “fly” them to this bar in moments if they wished. Duncan had to admit he believed the fellow, after his little display. Joe had pointed out that leaving their cars near a crime scene (even one as clean as they had left it) was probably a bad idea. Dean had conceded the point when he saw his vintage 64’ Thunderbird, explaining to him he drove a ‘67 Impala. 

At least the kid had taste. 

The ride had been a bit awkward, Duncan wasn't sure if he could trust this strange man. He didn’t give off an immortal buzz, but there was definitely something odd about him. Not to mention he was wandering around with an angel.

An angel. He had seen the man’s wings, and he had made the body disappear. He shook his head. This was crazy.

His car phone started to ring, and Dean seemed startled as he picked it up from its cradle between the seats.

“MacLeod,” he answered. 

“Hello, Highlander!” Methos’s smooth voice intoned into his ear. He sounded like he was calling from a payphone.

“M-Adam! How are you?” Duncan stumbled over his words. 

“I’m in Seacouver, at Joe’s, you coming?” Methos asked, Duncan could picture his perplexed expression at his stumble over his name. 

“Yeah, actually on my way there. I’m, uh, bringing friends,” he tried to put as much meaning as he could into his casual words of warning. 

“Our kind of “friends”?” Methos asked, an edge creeping into his voice. Duncan knew if he said yes, Methks wouldn’t be at the bar when he got there. 

“No. Not exactly,” Duncan said, looking Dean over again. He was wearing a leather coat, a flannel shirt and a t-shirt under it all and dirty jeans. The man smirked a little too cockily at him, obviously trying to suss out who he was talking to. Methos began to ask more questions, but Duncan interrupted him, “I’ll explain when we get there.”

“Fine,” and Methos simply hung up the phone without saying goodbye. He rolled his eyes hung the phone up.. “Never says goodbye,” he muttered.

Dean interrupted his thoughts about his wayward friend, “Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod...can you tell me what year it is?”

“Never seen a car phone before?” He asked. 

He pulled out a strange, rectangle with a glass cover from his pocket and held it out. “Not exactly.”

Duncan took the thing, and at his touch the screen came to life. The screen showed a crisp image of Cas and a tall long haired man smiling at him. The image was as sharp as a glossy photo print from a very good camera. Duncan gaped at it. Across the image was the time and date: 9:01pm July 27th, 2019. “It’s, uh, 1997.” He told him absently, turning the device this way and that until the screen went black again. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed. Then he shook his head and pocketed his phone(?) “So, was that your girlfriend?” Dean asked, sweetly. His all too perfect teeth gleaming white as he grinned. 

“A friend,” Duncan said flatly, though really wondering how far in the future this Dean was from “He’s meeting us at Joe’s.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Dean asked in a tone Duncan could only describe as professional concern. 

“It’s fine,” he told him, “he’s like me, and can keep a secret.” 

“And what are you exactly?” Dean asked.

Might as well just tell him, he had seen the beheading and the quickening, “I’m Immortal.” Duncan told him, the few times he had told mortals it had usually come with a heavy bit of skepticism.

Dean did not react how he expected. He seemed completely unphased by it. Unimpressed even, and his next question was odd “yeah but what are you? Monster, demon, god, demi-god?” He ticked each off as if those were all real things. “Cas says you have a soul so you aren't an angel, so what exactly?”

Duncan furrowed his brow in consternation. “I told you, I’m an “Immortal.”,” he tried to indicate to the man the capital letter nature of this title.

“Look, my friend back there is an angel who is older than humanity. I’ve met the oldest Vampire, I’ve even fought the mother of all monsters Lilith herself. I worked with the King of Hell for years. I’ve met gods and goddesses, Kali, Loki and Prometheus, even Zues, the colossal prick himself. I’ve met immortals. So what type of “immortal” are you?”

Duncan pulled the car up behind the building and brought them to a stop. The building’s pink and blue neon proclaimed “Joe’s Bar” in cursive script. Casting a glow on the hood of the Thunderbird as the light had now completely faded from the sky. 

“Look kid-” he began but the kid ran his mouth. 

“I’m not as young as I look,” Dean interrupted him. They glared at each other then, both got out of the car. Dean slammed the door as he exited, he talked to him over the hood of the car in a low growl. 

He said the words so often they simply rolled off the tongue, “I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.” He went on “I was born in 1592 in the highlands of Scotland. The only thing I have ever known of myself is that I am Immortal. I’ve met others and they too simply call themselves Immortal.I have been all over this earth and back 2 times over and I have never met a god, demon or angel. The only monsters have been men and women being evil. So what are you and where do you come from that you think these things, not only exist, but that you’ve met them.” Duncan was breathing hard, he had not made a speech like that in awhile. He had circled around the car to face Dean directly. 

“I didn’t just meet them. I killed a lot of them as well,” Dean growled, pulling a pistol from the back of his jeans. Duncan glared at him over the hood of the car. 

“My name is Dean Winchester, of the Legacy Winchesters, i was born in Lawrence, Kansas and I’m a hunter.” Dean told him mocking his speech. Duncan could care less about that, but he did hang on one word. 

Hunters. 

Immortal killers. Hortons visage swam across his mind. Darius headless on the floor of the church. So many other dead without a quickening because of them. Duncan had his sword out without hesitation. “Then you’re the last one,” he told Dean. 

Just then Joe’s car rounded the corner pulling up. Castiel appeared out of thin air next to Dean, a long silver blade the likes of which Duncan, with all his experience with antiques had never seen before, appearing in his hand. 

“What happened?” Castiel asked Dean, eyes on Duncan and looking like he knew how to fight. 

“I don’t know- I told him I was a hunter and he flipped out.” Dean was yelling, backing to stand shoulder to shoulder with his comrade.

“MacLeod!” Joe called out. Duncan did not spare his friend a glance as he circled around them, blade low. The insistent buzz of an immortal nearby made him pause instinctually, he saw in his peripheral vision that it was Methos coming out of the bar. “He said they are hunters.” Duncan told Joe. Warning them both.

“They don’t have watcher tattoos,” Joe said. 

“What’s a watcher?” Dean asked as him and Castiel backed away. Weapons drawn, waiting for him to strike. 

“I am,” Joe said.

“And me,” Methos said, hopping off the loading dock to join the fray. He pulled his broadsword out lazily. “Hey Highlander,” he grinned at him. Duncan kept his attention on Dean, but gave him a small nod as he joined him.

Dean however had stopped dead in his tracks, “Highlander?” He asked. His gun lowered a tick. “As in ‘There Can Be Only One?’ Highlander? That Highlander?”

“How do you know that phrase if you aren't a watcher?” Duncan asked still extremely wary of the man.

Dean lowered his gun completely and held his hand up in surrender, “Can we at least talk some more before we kill each other?”

Duncan wasn’t 100% sure of this and couldn’t stand down. 

“Come on Mac, hasn’t there been enough blood shed today?” Joe asked. 

Duncan looked at Methos, who still had his sword out, but was waiting for his signal to fight or not. He gave Duncan a questioning look. Duncan frowned but stood down, but he kept his sword out. It was usually better to find out more before killing people, but he was still unconvinced these two were safe to have around. 

::

Dean rounded on Cas, still aware of Duncan- his katana still drawn though no longer at the ready.. Keeping his voice low he asked Cas, “You brought us into the freaking Highlander-verse?” 

Cas looked perplexed, “I don’t know that reference,” he slid his angel blade back up his sleeve. 

“Yes you do!” Dean told him quietly, watching as the “Highlander” was talked to by Joe and the new one, “I showed you that movie last year. The Scottish dude that cuts people's heads off. Sean Connery, Christoph Lambert??” Cas squinted.

“There was a lot of Queen songs?” Cas asked.

“Yes!” Dean said, triumphant. 

Duncan cleared his throat. Dean took his hand off Cas’s shoulder turned around and raised his voice.

“Look, uh, MacLeod,” Dean needed to de-escalate this now that he knew what he was dealing with. “I hunt monsters. I believe you aren’t a monster, and I know what you are now and you, and your kind, are safe from me. Can we just have a beer, or some whiskey, and talk this out?” 

“I for one would like to find out what is going on.” The strange hook nosed man said genially, as he put his broadsword away. “What do you say MacLeod?”

Duncan put his sword away under his trench, looking at the man with a strange mix of emotions crossing his face. “Yeah, Joe, we’re gonna need some booze.”

Joe walked past them all shaking his head. “For all of us.” 

“Cas, man, this place is kind of dangerous,” Dean whispered at the angel as they were herded into the building. 

“This is where the signal was coming from,” Cas replied. 

“But… Highlander?” Dean felt like his brain might implode. He could except a magicless universe where he was tv star. But this? A universe based on a terrible 80’s movie that bombed in the box office? 

Cas said “Don’t lose your head.” In a terrible Sean Connery playing a spaniard impression and preceded him into the bar.

The door opened and they found themselves in a dimly lit dive, with a live band playing on a small stage. A few patrons littered the tables, and a small contingent were at the long bar that ran the entire length of the place. He could get used to a place like this. 

“This is your establishment?” Castiel asked Joe as he found them a large round table near the back and told them to sit. 

“Uh, yeah. Got tired of books,” he told them enigmatically. 

The hook nosed man smirked after the grey haired fellow. “I’ll just have a beer, Dawson.”

“What a surprise, ‘Old man’,” he muttered.

Dean looked at the older looking man and the young hook-nosed man and frowned. “Did he just call you ‘old man?”

“A little inside joke,” he said as he took a seat, his long legs sprawling out. 

Duncan fake laughed and pulled up a seat next to him. 

“So you’re one as well?” Dean said, turning to ‘Hook Nose’. 

The man nodded in a very aristocratic fashion, and smirked again. “He’s charming.” He turned to Duncan, “Where did you pick up these new friends, MacLeod?”

Duncan shook his head, “Kalen caught up with me. Near the docks. They saw the quickening,” He told him. 

“When you absorbed that man’s souls,” Castiel clarified for himself. 

This time it was the hook nosed man who frown. “Excuse me?” Duncan shrugged, so the man turned his gaze on the angel. “Who are you?”

“Castiel, angel of the lord,” Cas told him. Dean snort laughed at the look on the man’s face. 

He gaped at them both his hand halfway to a shake that Cas was not going to reciprocate.

“And you are?” Dean prompted. 

“Methos- Adam…shit.” he looked truly horrified that he had said the wrong name. 

Duncan was the one to snort with laughter. “You’re slipping, old man,” he told him. 

“Well excuse me for being human, I just met an angel,” he flicked his hand at Cas. 

“Yeah. You didn’t see his wings,” Duncan said, amused expression on his face. Methos looked at him, incredulous.

Cas leaned forward, back straight, but Dean put a hand on his shoulder before he made a spectacle. “No Cas, not here.” Cas looked affronted, but he sat back in his chair a little bit. 

Dean turned back to Methos/Adam. “And how old are you then, if even this one is calling you old man?”

Just then Joe and a waiter arrived with a tray of beers, a bottle of whiskey and glasses for everyone. “Old as dirt,” Joe told him, as he set down the glass. “Thanks kid,” He told the waiter. 

Dean jumped as he looked up at the waiter and saw Kevin Tran putting beers in front of him. “Kevin?”

The kid frowned at him as he plopped down the last beer. “Name’s Justin,” he told him, backing away. 

Dean watched him go shaking his head. 

“You know him?” Joe asked, furrowing his brow and giving his waiter a looking over. 

“Just his doppelganger,” Dean said, shaking his head. 

“You look more like you saw a ghost,” Joe observed. 

“Yeah well, kid’s been dead for five years. Last time I saw him he was a ghost.” Cas put a hand on his leg to steady him. 

“The prophet is in heaven Dean. That isn’t really him,” Castiel told him.

“You sure?”

“He doesn’t seem to give off a prophetic aura. He isn’t actually Kevin Tran, just a mirror.” Cas explained. 

“I know Cas, this isn’t my first rodeo into parallel universes.” Dean said, mollified. 

“Parallel...you can’t be serious. Tell me they aren’t serious Joe?” Methos was having none of this nonsense. 

“Look, I know it sounds crazy. But twenty minutes ago as far as we were concerned, Highlander is a bad movie from the 80’s. Though in our universe it was a Conner Macleod.”

Duncan startled, “Conner is my..uhhh ancestor.”

“Same clan different vintage,” Joe said. Duncan shot him a look. 

“There’s a movie about immortals in your universe?” Duncan was frowning. 

“Well in our universe Conner Macleod is a frenchman named Christoph Lambert and the movie bombed, but became a cult classic.” Dean explained.

“Dean you are straying from the point,” Cas told him. 

“My point is I’ve experienced this sort of thing before.” Dean continued, “Some things will be the same and others will be different. Nothing like you two exists where we are from, and ghosts, vamps and angels don’t seem to exist here. Unless your not telling us something.”

“I’ve never seen anything I would categorize as a ghost, vampire or angel. Well at least not one that didn’t turn out to be false.” Duncan told them. 

Methos nodded in agreement.

“Cas have you tried to tap into angel radio?” Dean asked. “Do angels exist here?”

“I assume heaven is here since I am able to fly and heal people. I pull my energy from there. You had said in the universe without magic not even the most basic of powers failed. But no I haven’t tried to tap into angel radio. I wasn’t sure it was safe to try.”

“How are we going to find Jack if you don’t tap into the airwaves? Isn’t that how you can track him?”

“Maybe, but it would also alert angels where we are.” Cas said.

“Maybe just a quick listen? See if Jack has cause any chatter?” Dean asked.

Cas closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

“I’m getting static. Like the radio is on but no one is using it.” Cas said confused. “All I can tell you is Jack’s signature is here, somewhere on this plane of existence.”

“Who is Jack?” Duncan asked, politely interrupting them.

Dean wondered when they had forgotten they weren’t alone. He exchanged looks with Castiel who looked as sheepish as he felt.

“We are looking for a boy, well he looks like a man, but he’s still a kid really. He got scared and...ripped a hole in the universe. We tracked him here to your universe and ripped our own hole -“ Dean snapped his mouth shut on his rambling explanation. “We’re trying to find him so we can take him home.”

“And this “Jack” has the power to rip holes into parallel universes?” Methos asked, looking uncomfortable.

“He’s a Nephilim,” Castiel explained very helpfully. 

“Half human half angel. Actually half arcangel…”

“He’s the son of Lucifer,” Castiel told them, leaning forward.

Dean stepped in before Cas really blew it. “But he’s good, we raised him to be good. But like I said, he’s still a kid. Honestly, he’s only like 2 years old so he gets a little confused sometimes.”

“Two?” Joe asked. 

“He said it wasn’t safe for him to be born helpless so he emerged fully adult.” Cas told him. Dean was sure they would find this useful information.

“So what happened?” Duncan asked.

“His mother didn’t survive the birth.” Cas said.

“No, why is he here?” Duncan reiterated, looking horrified. 

“It’s a long story but there was a demon, Jack decided to go after him,” Dean interrupted before Cas could say anything else to out them off. 

“We did try to stop him,” Cas added.

“He fled, but he also had some powerful friends. Somehow they were able to create a portal into another world. Jack was able to follow using his powers and Cas and I jumped in after him.”

“I tracked him here,” Cas finished. 

“I have heard a lot of stories in my time. And that has to be the biggest tall tale of them all.” Methos said, taking a swig of beer and shaking his head. 

“Trust me, I know how it sounds. I have to tell a lot of people to believe the things I’ve seen and I am amazed that any of them really do.” Dean nodded at Methos, “We aren’t asking for anything, if you can point us in the direction of a hotel…”

::

“You can crash at my place,” Duncan told the two of them.

Methos shot him a look. Duncan shrugged. The evening had lasted much longer than expected. Dean had told them some fantastic tales of fighting vampires and demons and even other angels. They gave them a good description of the demon and this Jack. Lots of them featured Dean’s brother Sam whom they referred to as a giant with long hair. Duncan had given them a little history of his own life explaining what the quickening was as well as the game. Dean seemed to catch onto things pretty quick and asked some strangely apropos questions. Joe had to close the bar and wanted them all to go home already. 

Dean was turning down his offer, “We can get a hotel. I mean cash still works here I’m assuming. Or wait, are we in the US or Canada?”

“We are in the US of A my friends, though I suppose Seacouver did once belong to the English,” Duncan told him. 

“Seacouver?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, in Washington state,” Duncan told them. 

Dean shook his head. Well that was something anyway. 

“It’s fine, I have a couch, and can make up a cot.” Duncan said. 

“I do not require sleep,” Cas informed him. 

Duncan looked him up and down, “right.” The angel was positively strange.

“And I can sleep anywhere,” Dean said.

“It’s true, we once spent a year in purgatory and there was nowhere to sleep but the ground,” Castiel offered.

“Cas!” Dean, threw up his hands and sat back. 

The angel shrugged. Duncan had to wonder what all these two had been through together that purgatory was just a side story. This was going to take some getting used to. 

Just then his phone rang, and he pulled out his cell from his pocket, flipping it open. 

“Duncan,” He answered. It was Amanda. “Hey, I’m going to be back in town tomorrow, you around?” She said this all matter of fact. She must be mad at him again.

“Yeah, listen, Amanda, I have some… visitors this week.” Duncan told her sternly. 

“And?” She asked. 

Duncan closed his eyes, why did Amanda always show up at the worst time? “I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Fine. See you soon!” and she hung up.

‘“Another girlfriend?” 

Duncan didn’t give Dean an answer and led them out of the bar.


	3. Rendezvous

Duncan led them into the Dojo and up the elevator in relative silence. They were all a little drunk and had been given a lot to think about. 

“Dean, I might go see if there is a heaven here,” Cas told him as they exited the elevator. 

“Now, why?” Dean turned to Cas. Duncan, not wanting to be a part of their lovers quarrel, marched towards the back of the loft. They probably needed some time alone. And yet he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. There was a lot of mystery around them and he wanted to understand. 

“I would like to understand the mechanics of this place. If these people who have lived hundreds of years have never met an angel or demon either the gates are both closed, or they don’t exist,” Cas explained .

Dean clenched his teeth. “And if there is a heaven? What then? You aren’t exactly popular there.”

“I’m not known here. This isn’t our universe,” Cas said. 

“And if the gates of heaven were closed and some angel showed up, with an earth vessel, don’t you think they would see you as a threat?” Dean argued. “Before you showed up there were only ever a handful of angels allowed on earth. 

Cas said nothing, but looked sullen. 

Dean tried again, “Cas, you’re all I have here and my only way back…”

Duncan opened the armoire by his bed and pulled out an extra blanket and pillow. He tossed them on the couch. “You can sleep here. Sorry there isn’t a lot of privacy.” 

Dean pulled away from Castiel and nodded. “Thank you, Duncan.” He said sincerely. Duncan was a little taken aback. This Dean fellow had seemed pretty rough around the edges and he hadn’t been expecting the courtesy. 

“Of course. Joe will start looking for that demon of yours or whatever. If the watcher network has seen him we’ll know.” Duncan assured him. “He’s come through for me plenty of times.”

“He’s a nephilim, and he’s not bad. He’s just powerful,” Dean explained again. 

“He’s our son,” Castiel said proudly. 

Dean shifted his feet at that, “Not like biologically,” Dean added.

Duncan nodded, “I understand. Immortals can’t have children. Sometimes they drop in your lap anyway.”

Dean sighed out, looking relieved that he understood. “You have any whiskey?”

“Didn’t you have enough?” Duncan asked, he had watched the man put them back all evening. 

“Helps me sleep.” 

Duncan didn’t argue, “There’s some above the fridge.”

As Dean went to get more booze, the angel walked up to him. This surprised Duncan, he hadn’t been terrible loquacious at the bar. Mostly just backing up Dean’s story the whole night. He was surprised when he confided in him.

“He’s worried about Jack. He feels responsible whenever the kid gets in trouble. He’ll drink too much to compensate,” Cas said, squinting over at the man. 

“Do you think that is wise?” Duncan asked, “Isn’t he mortal?”

“Don’t I know it.” 

“Cas, you need any Hunter’s Helper?” Dean called from the kitchen.

Cas looked over at his companion. “You know it won’t help,” Cas said. 

“Yeah, well. It’s nice when you pretend,” Dean sighed. 

Castiel turned towards Duncan once more and he heard him mutter, “It’s nice when you’re sober.” Duncan decided he better stay out of this, he patted the fellow on the shoulder and walked towards his bed. 

As he moved though, he felt the buzz of another immortal nearby. He stopped in his tracks. 

He pulled out his sword from the rack. “You two stay up here. If I don’t come back, call Joe.”

“Another immortal? You can sense them?” Cas asked.

Duncan swore he heard Dean say, “the buzz,” under his breath. If he hadn’t been worried about the impending fight he might have stopped to question him. 

“Yes, it’s...yes.” He put his sword out before him and made his way towards the stairwell

“What is the range of this sense?” Castiel asked. 

Duncan paused but ignored the questions, “Lock the stairwell door behind me, and run if the elevator goes down.”

Dean nodded, putting down his glass. 

Cas said, “I’ll fly us to Joe’s bar if there is trouble.” Duncan was relieved to know they could get to safety if needed. 

The dojo was dark when he got to the ground floor. He stepped out into the workout room holding his katana out looking for anything. 

“Is that for me?” Methos asked, from the darkened office. 

Duncan sighed out in frustration lowering his blade. “Methos. I thought you were going to your hotel.” He walked at a less stealthy pace to meet him in the dimly lit office.

Methos was shaking his head, playing with a book on the desk, “No way, not a chance. Not with our little guests in attendance.” He leaned forward, propping his chin up with his fists. “Tell me Mac, why are you helping them?”

Duncan shrugged, hanging the Katana on an empty wall rack. “If they are telling the truth, they don’t have anyone else to turn to. Beside’s they keep our secret I keep there’s and it’s all friendly like.” 

“You were always one for a sob story,” Methos rolled his eyes, swivelling in his chair. “When are you going to get it through you head that not everyone follows the same rules as you?”

“Yeah, yeah, you didn’t stay alive for 5000 years by getting involved.” Duncan shook his head at the oldest man alive, he now knew that his adage was true. But he also knew that the man could care, did care when he needed to. “You've also never met an angel before today, I'd wager. So you don’t know everything.”

“You really think the man’s an angel?” Methos asked, a pained expression on his face. 

“Joe and I saw that man disappear and reappear and he showed us his wings. If that isn’t an angel, I’m not Immortal.” Duncan sat on the edge of the desk. 

Methos stared off into the distance. 

“What?”

“Magic isn’t real!” Methos finally said, exasperated. “Angels, Demons, Vampires? Those things don’t exist MacLeod.”

“Says the 5000 year old man who saved my life by sticking me in a magic pool…” Duncan smiled fondly at him. 

Methos closed his eyes and groaned. The noise stirred something in Duncan. “It was a hail mary, I really didn’t think it would work.” Duncan gave him an affronted look. “I hoped it would work, but you were a little bit of a lost cause at that point.” Methos teased him. 

“This isn’t why you came,” Duncan told him. 

“Not really, no.” Methos admitted. Duncan felt his hand land on his lower back. “I, uh, heard you talking to Amanda, and I thought I might not have much time to see you before she comes. And I,” Methos looked down at his hand, “missed you.” He huffed out as if it pained him to admit such folly.

Duncan sighed out at his touch. Some of the tension of the day leaking out into his warm palm. The man was confounding. 

“Where have you been, this time?” Duncan asked quietly, closing his eyes to focus on his touch and the timbre of his voice.

The warm hand moved around his back, “Ended up in Japan, thought it would be cleansing to be somewhere orderly and calm. After the...after Kronos.”

“After the quickening.” Duncan said, both of them remembering the strange phenomenon of a double quickening. Neither of them really wanted to think about this much. Duncan had so many questions about it. The silence stretched and the moment to talk about it passed them by. 

“But you missed me.” Duncan said instead. 

“MacLeod, do you have to be obtuse?” Duncan opened his eyes to look down at him. Methos crumbled under the scrutiny. “Yes, okay. I know sometimes it’s hard for us to admit, but I do think we care about one another. I do think sometimes you actually miss me too.” 

“You sound like Amanda,” Duncan complained.

“Maybe you should think about why that is,” Methos retorted. 

The room was shadowy but a small shaft of light lit his face just enough to see the hurt expression he wore. Duncan felt himself relent. Methos only left him because he let him go. Amanda was the same. It was hard to admit this to himself that it might be him that was the problem and not them. 

“True enough,” Duncan admitted. Methos smiled sadly, but his dark eyes sparkled as they held his gaze.

Duncan turned himself around the desk so his body was actually facing him, Methos’s hand started to slide away, but he grabbed it up, “I’m glad you came back,” and he leaned down to kiss his fingers as if he was a courtier.

“You do know how to turn a girl’s head,” Methos said cheekily. Duncan tugged at his hand and Methos rose to his feet easily and Duncan used the momentum to pull him in for a solid kiss. 

Methos, in a surprise move, pushed Duncan up against the wall. He smiled as he moved his legs to either side of him and kissed him so his head hit the wall, hard. 

Duncan held his hips in his hands, pulling him closer. “Speak for yourself, old man.” Methos smirked and kissed him much more sweetly, pressing his body flush against him. They both breathed out in release. Duncan breathed in the smell of him: old books, clean air and beer. 

There was a noise from the Dojo, a falling wooden sword by the sound of it. Duncan looked over Methos’s shoulder and found Dean and Cas staring at them as they sheepishly returned a practice sword to the wall racks.

Methos sighed, dropping his head to Duncan’s shoulder, “I told you they were trouble.” 

“Sorry, sorry, we just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Dean said. Duncan noticed he and the angel were both holding blades now. 

“Where did you get the machete?” Methos asked, looking over his shoulder at the pair.

Dean shrugged and offered “Angel,” as his explanation. 

By this time Methos had disengaged from him, and turned around. “What do you mean, angel?” at the same time that Duncan shook his head and told them, “I had swords in my room.”

“Cas, get me a beer,” Dean ordered his friend.

Castiel made a face of disgust, but he nodded and poof, vanished. Duncan noticed this time that the rustling noise he had heard before was actually part of his vanishing act. Wings, he realized. A few moments later he returned, beer in hand. Not a bottle, but a glass of draft beer. 

Methos made a face. “Now I’ve seen everything.” 

“Is that from Joe’s?” Duncan asked.

Castiel nodded, and then he proceeded to drink the thing in one long gulp.

“Hey!” Dean protested. 

Castiel lowered his head, but he had emptied the whole glass. They glared at each other, finally Dean broke contact sighing. “Fine, I deserved that.”

Duncan rubbed a hand across his face, “it’s been a long day…”

“Right sorry, we’re leaving-”

And he grabbed at his angels arm and they headed for the stairs. 

“I should probably go,” Methos began. 

Duncan turned around to face him. “You give up too easy.”

“It’s part of my charm,” He shook his head, his gaze following the pair mounting the stairs. “An angel? Really?”

Duncan nodded closing the distance between them and grabbed him by the upper arms. “Stay?”

Methos took in a sharp breath, and put a hand on Duncan’s chest. It was warm and big and comforting. 

“I’ve lived a long time, MacLeod. I thought I knew…” He trailed off. Duncan couldn’t stand this anymore and he kissed him again. His lips were a little swollen and warm. His stubble grated on his own. It really had been an incredibly long day. 

“Come here,” he led Methos back into his office closing, and locking the door and shutting all the blinds. 

“You can be oddly intimidating when it comes down to it,” Duncan told him.

Methos smirked looking down at his feet. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Duncan walked up to Methos and pulled him in to kiss his forehead. Methos snaked his arms around him and lifted his head to kiss him on the lips. This time no one interrupted.

Methos slid his hands up under his shirt as he leaned back against the desk and lifted up his shirt over his head. He kissed his sternum and held him by the sides, moving up towards his collarbones, and neck. Duncan just let him letting out a little moan and held onto him as his lips and hands roved over his neck and chest. 

There was a pause enough that Duncan was able to rip the mans grey henley off of him as well. Methos barely seemed to pause pushing him up against the door and kissing him soundly.

Methos was a good kisser. He kissed firmly yet soft on the release, his tongue flicking out at just the right moments. His hands gripped and pulled at his exposed skin then caressed him just so, sending little shivers up his spine. He then pressed himself up against his body, his legs moving to wider stance and pressing against his erect dick. The warmth between them growing.

“MacLeod.” Was all he said as they pushed against each other. There was something about his strange every accent not accent that sent a thrill up his spine.

Methos kissed him some more and they stayed like that for a moment. Duncan let his hand slide between them and he gripped the hot firmness of his cock through his trousers. Methos pulled back, breathing heavily. 

“Easy tiger,” Duncan told him.

Methos laughed. “You do put me in compromising positions MacLeod. How about we switch roles this time.” His demeanor shifted and for a brief moment Duncan saw the great warrior he must have been in his youth. He had told him that day in the parking lot that he was Death. He could see the power in him.

That contrast to the scholarly gentle man he had thought he was when they first met was dizzying. But now, with a little time to sort out the pieces of the puzzle that was Methos he could see a little better who he was.

And right now he was in charge.

Duncan slid to his knees in obesence, helping him unzip and remove his trousers. Methos stood, legs apart and braced as Duncan licked up his mostly erect penis. Methos made a small encouraging sound and Duncna decided to let himself enjoy pleasuring him.

He licked around his head and sucked him down. Duncan didn’t have a lot of male lovers over the years, but he wasn’t completely inexperienced. He had been a part of a lot of armies in a lot of battles and sometimes when the only companions around were men, you did what you had to do. 

Over the years he had convinced his mind and body to resist such urges and had not indulged in such behavior in many years. 

But he knew his way around pleasure and it wasn’t long before his licks turned to mouthing to deep throating the man as Methos carefully thrust in and out of his mouth. 

Duncan increased the speed and force, adding in a little bit of teeth and tongue when needed as his hands gripped his ass cheeks hard, and moved his fingers over his hole. It took awhile but pretty soon he had Methos panting and groaning.

“If you don’t stop-“ Methos panted out, “i’m going to come in your mouth. 

Duncan didn’t stop. Methos gripped his hair as hot gooey liquid filled up Duncan’s mouth. For a moment he felt like he was drowning in it, then he made himself swallow the sticky stuff and suck the last of it out. 

Methos let go of his hair making the most grotesque moaning noise and stepped back.

Duncan grinned up at him, wiping his mouth. 

“Come here, and remove your pants,” Methos commanded him. His dick still half erect and bobbing as he stepped back to lean against the desk.

Duncan obeyed as Methos pushed things back off the desk careless of the mess to the floor or damage to his things. Duncan decided to ignore this and removed his jeans. Methos hopped his skinny ass onto the desk and motioned Duncan to come to him, wrapping him up in his legs as he approached.

Methos kissed his mouth still wet from sucking him off. There was something a little obscene about the way he licked his mouth and face clean of his own cum. Duncan felt himself stimulated further with the thought of it as Methos pushed them together so his slick cock rubbed against his own. 

Methos brought up his hand and spit in his palm, bringing his slightly wet hand down on both of them. Duncan moaned at the touch, he was so ready to come after pleasuring Methos he was almost afraid the slight touch of his cock pressed against his would set him off.

“Easy Tiger,” Methos echoed his earlier words softly in his ear as he stroked them. Duncan felt his hot breath on his earlobe as his large hand enclosed their cocks together. Methos kept a slow steady rhythm and held him close with his other arm. 

He let go suddenly, bringing his hand up to his mouth and spitting into his palm. He brought it down and let the slickness cover Duncan’s cock. 

“Get inside me.” He leaned up to his ear and commanded once more. 

Duncan obeyed immediately, moving Methos so his ass was off the desk and bent his legs to get a better angle. He set the head of his cock on his hole, feeling the wetness beckon him forward.

He thrust slowly forward, but Methos was relaxed and let him in more than he had expected. It was wetter than he expected as well.

“Did you,” he gasped out, “prepare yourself for me?”

Methos grinned with pleasure pulling him towards him so that Duncan thrust almost all the way inside him. “You’ll never know, Highlander. Now fuck me!”

So he did. 

Duncan pulled out and thrust all the way the hilt inside him. Methos wrapped his legs around him and held him around the neck. Duncan lifted him completely from the desk and fucked him as he bounced on his dick.

Duncan lost himself in the hot tight slickness of his ass, holding on to his sculpted body and trying not to lose his balance. There was something thrilling about fucking someone while upright with nothing else touching you. No bed, no floor just two bodies tangled up together. Methos’s dick rubbed up against his sweat slick chest as they synchronized their movements.

“Methos…” he breathed out the name, it was all he could manage under the strain of keeping them from falling. Methos sat hard on his dick and Duncan came inside him, holding him close so he wouldn’t move as he filled his ass. 

“I’m going to set you down on the desk.” Duncan gasped out. Not exactly the most romantic thing to say, but imminently practical.as he set his down, pulling out as he did so, he also felt a new slick wet spot on his chest as cool air hit him. 

“You came again?” Duncan asked, incredulous.

“I told you I was married 67 times. You didn’t think there was a reason?”

Duncan laughed then dropped to his knees and a muscle cramp hit his side and leg at the same time.

“You alright?” Methos looked only slightly concerned.

“Muscle cramp, i’ve never held someone so heavy before.”

“You, sir, are missing out.” Methos said. “I have to say I’ve never done it that way before. I quite enjoyed myself.”

“Don’t expect it to be a regular thing…” Duncan pleaded, breathing deep to alleviate the cramping.

“Pity.” Methos hopped off the desk grabbing up clothes. “Want me to grab you some water?”

But Duncan was making his way to his feet, the pain subsiding. He felt as sore as after a fight. He managed to pull on his jeans, Methos was still shirtless and he came over to give him a kiss.

“I wish there was a way...” Duncan said. 

“How is there not a way?” Methos asked him, flashes of anger and hurt in his eyes. 

“I just never thought of myself with a man Methos, you know what I mean.” Duncan said, hoping to quell the subject so they could part on good terms.

“MacLeod, why do you have to wrap everything in your life up in this ridiculous moral shroud from 400 years ago? The beliefs of your dead kin have no bearing on how you choose to live your life.” Methos was getting heated in the entirely wrong way. 

“I have built my life around my beliefs,” Duncan said, hurt. He stepped back and Methos threw his hands up.

“To your folly! You would have let Christine walk away with her head intact if I had not intervened. Why can’t you see that not everything you learned from Clan MacLeod is applicable in this life? What did those folk know about love-“ Methos paced the small space, his shirtless form looking lithe and muscular in the dim light.

“They knew plenty-“ Duncan tried to get a word in. 

“Did they? These are the same people that were going to let your beloved marry your cousin. The ones who condemned her to damnation because they thought she took her own life!” 

Duncan had backed away from Methos all the way to the opposite windowed wall. Tears coming unbidden to his eyes. “You read Joe’s chronicles?”

Methos looked embarrassed and looked away. “I, uh, may have asked Joe for your watcher files before I left on my trip.” He picked up his shirt from the floor. Even in the middle of a fight he couldn't help but look at his ass fondly.

Duncan felt betrayed and oddly flattered. “Joe gave you my files?”

“Well he had the archives and…I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again.” Methos admitted sadly, pulling his shirt in over his head.

“Worried about my head?” Duncan asked in the faint hope he might change his mind and stay. 

Methos shook his head. “Always, but no. Worried about whether you would even want to see me again..”

And he stood and headed for the door of the office. 

“Methos…” Duncan pleaded with him. 

“Tell Amanda I said hello.” Methos said, continuing his march out the door. 

“Methos!”

He did stop then, turning to look him in the eye. “MacLeod it is late and we are tired and we need to stop before this conversation goes any further. You may want to put a shirt on before you go back upstairs…”. He gave a sad little smile. “See you around, Highlander.”

Duncan sat on the edge of the desk for a long time before he could make himself move. He worked through several stages a grief and settled on anger before he threw on his sweater and went back upstairs.


	4. Commiserations on Your Love Life

Dean pushed Cas into the loft, and shut the door behind them. 

His face was hot and he felt decidedly uncomfortable. 

“Can’t say I was expecting that of all things,” He lay the machete down on the kitchen counter, leaning onto his elbows in defeat. 

Cas came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean’s head whipped up to look at him. At Cas. At his best friend. Castiel’s blue eyes searched his own. 

“Dean…” he said, in that familiar gravelly way. 

“Cas…”

“We could have that,” Cas said after a moment. Dean felt his world turn upside down. His mind seemed to go blank and time seemed to slow. Those words from Cas were so unexpected he couldn’t process. 

“What?” His first instinct was to push this away, his word escaping his mouth without thought. 

Cas’s face lost a little of it’s confidence, and he licked his lips nervously. A nervous Angel. He made angels nervous. He pushed down the laugh that threatened to escape. If he laughed at his angel right now he would never be able to mend that rift. 

Before he could open his mouth to speak Dean shook his head to stop him. “No, I-” He hesitated and pushed himself to speak his truth. “I know what you mean. Sorry… it’s just hard.”

Cas closed his eyes in pain, “I know, Dean.”

Dean felt another twinge in his chest, and he turned his face away from him. He didn’t want to cause his angel any pain. His angel. How long had he been calling him that in his head? Why did this make him such a damned coward. 

“Cas I-” He lifted his head to look at the man, and realized he was alone. “Cas?” he stood up and looked around as if he would be able to find him better that way in the large open loft. No, he was gone. “Damn it.” 

Knowing it was a long shot he pulled out his phone. There was the faintest of signals. There were cell towers in this time. It was possible he could get a call out.

He pushed the button to call Cas, but it rang and rang for several minutes. Either the signal couldn’t connect or Cas wasn’t answering. It wasn’t as if there were that many cell towers in the world at this point. Cas could simply be out of range. 

There was really not much he could do. Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod didn’t have a computer in his apartment. Dean had spied a clunky looking laptop in his office so at least he had one, but he knew that room was currently being occupied by two immortals in need of some privacy.

For a moment his mind wandered to what exactly was going on downstairs.

They had witnessed the kiss, he could imagine what would have happened next. Methos had pinned Duncan up against the wall as he had pushed their lips together. His body pressed up against him.

Dean could imagine the press of the man against his, his lips pressed to his. His blue eyes staring into his soul. Cas’s face swam in front of his for a moment and he pushed away from the counter to dispel his wandering thoughts. 

Damn him for leaving just as he had been ready to tell him how he felt about him. He went to the window, and looked out over the street. It was devoid of life in this backwater part of the city. He forced himself to breathe slowly.

“Cas, Castiel, if you can hear me. Please come back. I have more to tell you. I’m staying at MacLeod’s until you do.” He prayed aloud. 

Dean waited a few minutes, but no wing sounds graced his presence. Sighing he sat down on the couch. He would sleep. There was nothing he could do unless-until- Cas returned.

::

Dean woke as the sound of the elevator being engaged. As the elevator car ascended it beamed stark light into the darkened room. He squinted, rubbing his eyes as Duncan, slumped against the wall came into view.

Dean smirked to himself. Methos had fucked him ragged by the look of him. His lips were swollen, and his eyes seemed puffy, and bloodshot. He was walking a little gingerly as he pushed himself off the wall and exited the elevator.

“Hey,” Dean called out.

Duncan startled at the sound of his voice, “I thought you’d be asleep.” He said, raising his eyebrows as he walked past his couch.

“I’m a light sleeper. Comes with the job.” Dean couldn't help but notice the man was limping a tad.

Duncan nodded sleepily, he sat down on the edge of the couch then he frowned. “Where’s the angel?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Dunno, we, uh…” Dean had no words for what had happened, “he left.”

“Should I be concerned?” Duncan asked.

Dean opened his mouth to say something snarky, but shut his mouth. “I don’t think so, he’ll be back.” He wouldn’t leave me behind, he thought. Hopefully.

“So, uh, you and Methos…?”

Duncan went still, not blushing exactly, but definitely feeling some emotions. “Yeah, about that-“

“No, man, my best friend is-“ he stumbled a bit remembering she was dead, and he huffed out a “was” before continuing. “Gay. It’s cool.”

Duncan straightened up a bit and looked him over. “I’m not gay. I mean… it’s… complicated.” He stood, agitated. “Besides, arent you and that angel fellow a couple?” He asked sincerely.

Dean felt like he’d been poked, “No!” He said, much too loudly. He shut his mouth so quick his teeth clicked together. “It’s not like that…”

Duncan smiled, “Oh? Methinks you doth protest too much.” He smirked and added in a playful tone, “What is it like then?”

Dean frowned, “I thought we were talking about you!” 

“Uh, uh. This is more interesting,” Duncan said, grinning. 

“You were just fucking a guy in your office, and you claim you aren't gay and it “isn't like that” and my relationship with my best friend is more interesting?” Dean asked incredulously. Some part of him knew he was trying to get the focus off of himself. 

“We weren’t-“ Duncan’s words were betrayed by his sudden embarrassed blush. 

“You’ve been down there for a couple hours..” Dean said.

They glared at each other and then turned away, Duncan stomped off towards his bed and Dean sat back down on the couch. 

A moment passed in silence then Duncan said, “I have loved woman for centuries! I have a girlfriend, her name is Amanda.” 

“Well, I've had plenty of woman and practically married to a woman named Lisa,” Dean retorted, that old pain in his chest about how it had ended with them still stung. “I’m not in love with my best friend okay?”

“I’m not in love with mine either!” Duncan told him tartly. 

“In love?” Dean asked, and they turned to look at each other both realizing what they had said might not be true.

That the opposite might be true.

Dean’s mind went back to times when Cas had been there. All those times he had risked his life for him and Sam. How he still risked his life daily just to keep them safe even now. 

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed, realizing so many things all at once. Here he had been denying his feelings, for years thinking an angel could never feel for him what he felt. When really all this time Cas had shown him over and over that he loved him. Had told him in so many ways that he loved him and would always be at his side. In fact, it had only been about two years ago when he had said he loved him, he had been dying stabbed with that spear. He had told him he loved him and he hadn’t even paid any attention. 

Duncan seemed to be remembering things as well, because he swore as well. 

Their eyes met. “You too?”

Duncan nodded. “And we weren’t fucking we were just..” he huffed out of breath and let out the truth “fucking, really good fucking too....and then fighting. It’s been a tough year.”

“Yeah, we never seem to have a break either..” Dean said wistfully. 

Duncan snorted, “Tell me about it. I’ve been fighting other immortals for centuries, but it’s always been on and off, every few years you run into someone who wants your head and you fight them. The last five years… it seems like every other week someone is coming at me, challenging me to the death.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been fighting monsters my whole life, and lately it seems like the stakes keep getting higher. Every time we turn around one of has been kidnapped, possessed, killed or cursed. It’s hard to find time to stop and realize what we are all doing together. Let alone recognize that…”

“You’re in a relationship and you’ve fallen in love with someone?”

“Yeah…” Dean admitted. “Duncan, how long have you and he been-”

“Fucking?” Duncan provided the word, “It started a couple years ago...but it’s been on and off. Methos tried to start something with us early on, but I denied him. He moved on and fell in love with Alexa. But after she died he came back.” He shivered. “Then we had a falling out...or two. A little while ago I found out some things about his past that made me want to kill him. We both survived that and…” Duncan trailed off, lost in the memories. “Anyway, when it was all over we had this...connection.” He gestured as of that wasn’t the right word for it. “He’s told me how important and rare an immortal like me is the first time we met. I always just thought it was to do with the game.”

Dean listened without offering any words of advice. After he was done talking, he said simply, “MacLeod, I think we both need a drink.”

Duncan nodded agreement and went to the kitchen.

“So, how’d you two meet?” Duncan asked him, handing him a glass with an all too generous pour of whiskey.

Dean flashed back to the barn shaking introduction back in Kansas and smiled. The angel had certainly made an impression. “Well, he uh, rescued me from hell.” He made a face, then changed his voice, “‘I’m the one who raised you up from perdition.’” 

Duncan chuckled. “Is that how he talks?”

“How he used to talk, he’s become...more human over the years.” Dean shook his head, “Honestly, I don’t really remember that part in hell, but the first time he showed up in that vessel... He was bigger than life, the barn we were holed up in shook, lights popped as he walked in. I stabbed him in the chest and he just… looked at me with that little head tilt thing he does. It was a couple days after i crawled out of my own grave.”

“Been there, not fun,” Duncan commiserated. 

Dean looked over at the man, what an odd thing to find common ground on. “How many times have you ‘died’ exactly?”

Duncan shrugged, “It happens more often than I'd like. Too many wars, i’ve tried to stay out of active duty recently. But the last few years I've been pulled back into ‘the game’ full time.” He shook his head, “Well, you saw today even if i win, sometimes it ends with me dying.”

“Yeah, I've died a few times myself. Castiel has brought me back or kept me alive more times than I care to admit. I honestly didn't expect to live this long. I’m almost 40 now and I keep waiting for the shoe to drop.”

Duncan grunted, taking another swig of beer. He couldn’t really imagine being that young again. He felt like he hadn’t truly found himself until he was well into a century. 

“How old is Methos?” 

Dean’s question caught him off guard and Duncan choked a bit on his beer. 

“What?” Dean asked, perplexed. “Is it not polite to ask an immortal their age?”

Duncan looked like he was weighing something, “he’s, uh, 5000 years old. By all accounts he’s the oldest of all of us.”

It was Dean’s turn to cough, then he thought about it. “In the same vessel?”

Duncan looked down at himself as if that were a novel idea, “We only get the one.”

Dean stuck out his chin, impressed. “Good on him.”

“He’s a survivor.” Duncan admitted. “It doesn't always make him easy to live with.”

“I’m sure you’re all sunshine and roses,” Dean mused. 

Duncan laughed. “Yeah, he calls me out all the time for being a righteous prick.” Duncan smiled to himself over that. “It’s one of the things I love about him. Besides it's nice having someone in my life who has seen more than i have and can bring a different perspective.” 

“Yeah, it's easy to think you know best when no one is there to talk to. My brother is often my voice of reason, Cas is old but.. he’s not that worldly. He’s only been on earth full time for a couple years… well actually more like a decade now. That’s hard to believe.” Dean shook his head in disbelief. How had so much time passed? How had he not admitted how he felt before now? 

Duncan had no idea what to say to that so he just grunted. 

“Maybe you should just call him?” Dean suggested.

Duncan flopped his head over at him. They were both beyond drunk. Duncan squinted at him dubiously. 

“I really don't think that's a good idea,” Duncan said, indicating the mostly empty bottle between them. 

Dean conceded draining the last if his current glass of whiskey. 

“I don't think he’s gonna come back tonight,” Duncan admitted. 

“Cas will come back once he finds something. Though why he left in such a hurry…” Dean sighed, closing his eyes on the pain. 

Duncan set down his glass. “We should get some sleep. We still need to do what we can in the morning for your missing boy.”


	5. Angel Fallout

Joe switched on the lights as he walked into the bar. It was morning and no one should be there for hours yet as they did not open till 4:30. “Phillip? You here?”

“Well, my name isn’t Phillip, common name that, but I am here.” Someone mused. Joe startled at the man with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail standing in his bar, looking down on him. 

“Who the hell are you?” Joe asked. 

He pursed his lips in distaste. “Names Balthazar.” He said. 

“Like the devil?”

The man looked affronted. “I beg your pardon? I am an angel, sir, you are thinking of Beelzebub I am sure.”

“Beg pardon.” Joe said, “Funny, you’re the second angel I’ve met this week.”

“Yeees, that’s why I’m here, actually.”

Joe stopped in his tracks. “Right, well, he isn’t here now, so I’m not sure why you’re in my bar.”

“Look, Joe,” he elongated his name as if to insult it. “This is the last place I can find a trace of him, so if you could just point me in the right direction-”

“Look I told you-” There was a great sounds of fluttering wings like a flock of pigeons taking flight and the air around him stirred and then Balthazar was standing next to him. A silver blade like the one that Cas had held the day before. It glinted oddly, as if finding light that wasn’t even there. 

“Just tell me where he was headed. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s why you have that in your hand?” Joe nodded to the blade in consternation. 

“Joe? You here?” Came a voice from the back door. Balthazar looked up at the intruder. 

Methos stood in the doorway, seeing the blade to Joe’s throat he pulled his sword from his trenchcoat. “Why don’t you pick on someone who is actually armed, sir?”

“Adam, he’s an angel, leave it be,” Joe warned. 

Balthazar groaned, sheathing his blade up his sleeve. “Fine. But if you see the angel tell him I’m looking for him.”

“So,” Methos said, sheathing his sword in one fluid motion. “Mind if I help myself to a beer?”

“Make it two,” Joe grumbled and went to the phone to call Duncan. 

::

Duncan hung up the phone. “That was Joe, he said an angel named Balthazar just attacked him.”

Dean goggled at him. “Balthazar?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Blonde, British, snobby?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, mentioned that he had a blond ponytail.. Him and Methos are at the bar.”

Dean scrubbed his face, trying to wake himself up. “You got any coffee?”

Dean got ready in his usual efficient fashion and stood waiting by the kitchen island as the coffee brewed. Duncan looked him up and down, “You are way less hungover than seems possible.” 

Dean grunted. “I’ve uh, had practice. In my line of work you have to be ready to go when you are ready to go. I can’t afford to be hungover.”

“I didn’t think that’s how it worked,” Duncan said, pouring two mugs full of coffee. 

“You don’t look so rough yourself,” Dean said.

“Immortal healing powers,” Duncan waggled his eyebrows at him. 

Dean grunted, taking a mug from Duncan. 

Wings. Dean looked up and Castiel was inches from him. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas!” he put down his coffee on the counter, and gave him a hug.

Cas stiffened in his arms. “Dean?” 

Dean stepped back, swaying a bit. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little drunk.”

Duncan chuckled at him.

“Cas, you’re okay. Where were you?” He petted at the angels face. 

“There have been some developments.” Castiel said, searching Dean’s face, worried. 

“Yeah, apparently Balthazar was looking for you at Joe’s,” Duncan said.

Cas moved his gaze from Dean to Duncan. “Balthazar? Joe talked to him?”

Duncan nodded. 

Cas stepped forward and Dean found himself flying, he braced himself and bent his knees, landing well in his estimation of these things. It got better with practice. Duncan faired fairly well, but stumbled a bit, spilling half his coffee on impact. 

“Christ,” Duncan exclaimed, and Joe and Methos looked up from the bar. 

“Cas, I keep telling you, you gotta warn people,” Dean said. 

“No time. Joe, you spoke to Balthazar?” Cas asked the old man. 

Joe quickly explained his meeting with the angel. Cas frowned taking in this information. “And he said he was looking for me?”

“Well, yeah. He told me to tell you he was looking for you.”

“Cas, what is going on. I take it you were able to get into heaven here?” Dean asked. 

Cas shook his head. “No, the gates were closed, as you surmised.”

“Then where were you all night?” Dean asked, anger rising in him. 

“Trying to get in and looking for any angels on earth.”

“Do you think that was wise?” Dean asked. 

Cas shrugged. “I was hoping the search would find Jack.” 

Dean looked thoughtful. “What if i pray to Balthazar, would he come here?” 

“I'm sorry, you’re going to pray?” Methos asked, incredulous. 

Dean looked at the oldest immortal, “I gotta tap into angel radio. It's the only way to do it.”

“By all means then, go ahead,” Methos rolled his eyes.

Dean started to pray “dear Balthazar, angel of the lord. Please meet us at Joe’s bar. Amen.”

Methos Duncan and Joe all exchanged incredulous looks. 

They didn’t have to wait long, Balthazar landed among them blade out and ready for anything. Dean goggled at him. He was younger than he remembered him looking before, his blond hair was long and in a ponytail much like Duncan’s. He wore a long black trench coat as well. The 90’s were a weird time.

“Does everyone in this universe have a ponytail?” He asked looking over this version of the angel.

Balthazar smoothed over his ponytail with his free hand, frowning. “Who the hell are you?”

“Balthazar, what are you doing here?” Castiel asked him, stepping in front of Dean.

“Your human friend rang, I showed up,” he said, bowing a little. 

“You threatened our human friend,” Castiel warned. 

“I-“ he looked over at Joe as if to say ‘tattle-tale’. “I merely asked him to get in touch with you, Castiel.”

“Why?”

“Your machinations to get into Heaven did not go unnoticed. Anna sent me down to investigate.”

“You? Why?”

Balthazar smiled, “why not me? Normally she would send you, but considering there are two of you she thought it would be best to send me instead. Less confusing that way.”

“So there is a Castiel from this universe.”

“Obviously,” Balthalzar was done with them already. 

“Is there a Dean Winchester in this universe?” Cas asked.

“Who?”

“No one.” Dean said. 

“Anna sent you, what did she tell you to do with me?” Cas asked:

Balthazar dropped his blade from his sleeve and sighed. “Well, to kill you of course.”

Dean closed the distance and his own angel blade to the angels throat in a heartbeat.

Balthazar’s eyes flicked to the blade at his throat and frowned. “Where did you get that blade? Only angels carry such things.”

Dean smirked at him, “How do you think?” Balthazar twitched, eyes darting to Cas. “You aren’t harming Cas.”

He clenched his fists and breathed out, “I see. Well what do you propose? I would like to stay alive, but I have my orders.”

“You could rebel,” Castiel said. His gravelly voice completely deadpan.

“You always were the funniest angel in the garrison. Why don’t you give me a more sensible option?” Balthazar was completely irritated. 

“I was being serious,” Cas said and smirked. Dean had never been prouder.

“What sort of messed up dimension are you from?” Balthazar asked. 

“Help us out and we will be out of you hair soon enough, back to our own dimension.”

Balthazar’s eyes flicked to the blade again. “Help you out how?”

“Answer our questions,” Cas said.

“And help us find Jack,” Dean said.

“Who the hell is Jack?” Balthazar asked them. 

Dean exchanged a look with Cas that they would have to explain without giving away exactly what Jack was, but Joe spoke up before they could stop him. “A Nephilim.” 

“Their son,” Duncan added helpfully.

Dean and Cas both knew that this would not be news that would make him aid them. Nephilim's were completely against angel law. They weren’t expecting him to laugh. 

“You two are in some shit,” He eyed them both up and down. “Do I ask how you accomplished such a thing?”

“He isn’t our biological son, He’s just …”

“Our son,” Cas affirmed. Dean glanced over at the angel and nodded. 

Dean pushed his angel blade a little tighter against his throat. “Will you help us or no?”

Balthazar roll his eyes. “Fine. I was bored anyhow. Bartender, fetch me some wine, would you?”

“Red or white?” Joe asked.

::

“How long have the gates to heaven been closed?” Castiel asked the parallel Balthazar. 

“Since the beginning. We stopped interfering with human affairs long ago, except to keep them once they die.” Balthazar explained, sipping his wine with a sour face. “Wine isn’t really what it used to be. He pursed his lips. “I like the change though. The ancients didn’t have the process down so precisely.”

Joe rolled his eyes and refilled his glass.

“Where do these Immortals fit into your world,” Dean asked the angel, curious what he could tell them. 

“Honestly, we aren’t sure. They have some sort of special souls that can be absorbed into the closest of them and the source of them is outside of Heaven.”

“What about hell? I couldn’t find an entrance.” Castiel interjected. 

“Sealed at the same time as Heaven.”

“And Lucifer is still in the cage?” Dean asked, he didn’t want to deal with Lucifer if at all possible. 

“Lucifer? No, he’s in Heaven.” Balthazar looked confused by the question.

Castiel asked, “Why is the devil in Heaven?”

Balthazar furrowed his brow, “Aruman isn’t in heaven…”

“Whose Aruman?” Duncan asked.

“The devil,” Balthazar repeated

Methos came over and sat down. “Look, this is all fascinating, but I thought this fellow was going to help us.”

“Adam’s right, when do we go look for Jack.” Duncan said, using the man’s alias.

“Well, unlike humans I can multitask, I've been monitoring angel radio, it seems Anna has sent another angel to earth.”

“Who?” Dean asked at the same time that Castiel asked, “Where?”

“Lawrence, Kansas, and, er, she sent you.” 

::

“Can you transport all of us?” Dean was asking the angel. Duncan was so intent on eavesdropping on Dean and Cas’s conversation he didn't hear Methos approaching.

Methos put a hand on Duncan’s shoulder, making him look up. “Are you okay with this?”

“They need help, they don’t know anyone else in the world.” Duncan sighed, not wanting to reignite the previous nights argument. 

“I don’t mean that, I mean...angels? Demons? Are you okay with what these two are awakening in our world?” Methos seemed concerned. Duncan supposed he was right to be. He had been one of the horsemen, but it hadn't been by divine providence. The thought that there were angels and demons made a lot of things different in both of their minds 

“What can we do, except help them out and make sure they leave as quickly as possible?” Duncan asked.

Methos made a face, “I guess you are right. Tell me where to point my sword.”

Duncan leaned over the bar, motioning Joe over as well “Any word from the watchers?”

“Nothing yet.” Methos said. 

“I was hoping one of them would call by now.” Joe confided.

“What do you mean?” Dean’s voice rose above their conversation, and they all looked over at the group. 

There was a great commotion and wind whipped through the bar, and lights started popping in their sockets as five people appeared all around them. Duncan felt himself grabbed up by strong arms while Joe and Methos were similarly treated.

When the wind settled they saw that there was a young dark haired man in his 20’s holding a blond kid in his grip. For some reason the dark haired one reminded Duncan of Castiel.

“If you hurt him..” Dean said, starting forward. 

“What? You’ll kill us?” the young kid asked.

“Look you may not have heard of the Winchesters in this universe, but where I come from angels and demons alike quiver in fear when we are around.” Dean’s threat seemed plausible to Duncan. 

“They are quite formidable,” Balthazar said lazily sipping his wine. 

“Go back to heaven, Anna wants to talk to you.” The young angel ordered Balthazar.

“And miss the show?” He asked lazily.

“Balthazar! I order you back to the garrison.” His voicd had the ring of authority.

“Touchy!” Balthazar rolled his eyes and disappeared. 

“I’m sorry Dean! I didn’t mean to get caught!” said the blond kid. 

“It’ll be alright Jack,” Dean reassured the kid, not taking his eyes off the dark haired angel. 

“No, Jack, Nephilims are an abomination that should be eradicated, you will be executed,” said a man with a grey beard.

“Ishim,” Dean addressed this angel with a scowl.

The man smiled in a truly sinister fashion. “We haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Don’t worry, i met you on earth, and I saw you die. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.” Dean told him with relish.

“Enough.” Castiel commanded them all. “I am here to take the abomination and this rogue angel back to heaven for questioning and sentencing.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Cast said, and him and Dean acted at the same time, breaking free of their angel captors. Duncan moved only a second behind, and soon had his angel captor disarmed and the strange short blade in his hand. It was surprisingly heavy and cold in his hands. It felt powerful. 

Methos attempted escape, but his angel, pulled him aside and out of Duncan’s reach, Duncan pursued them, but the angel and Methos disappeared. He turned back to watch as Dean had his captor backed into a corner, Joe had disarmed his and was wielding a broken bottle to defend himself, but the dark haired kid, the blond kid and Castiel were all missing.

There was a terrible bright blue light as Dean killed the Ishim fellow, the other remaining angels watched in horror and they all fled as Dean turned back around to face them. 

“SON OF A BITCH!!” Dean called out to the fleeing angels. 

“They took Methos-” Duncan said in disbelief. 

“What are we going to do?” Joe asked, setting his broken bottle down with shaking hands. 

“We are going after them,” Dean said, breathing hard.

“How? We don’t have wings, unlike your friend,” Duncan pointed out. 

“The way we always do. We drive. I know the way,” Dean said, putting his angel blade into his pants. 

Wing sounds greeted them once more and Balthazar returned next to the bar, still holding his wine glass, now empty. He held it out to Joe, “Fetch me a refill. I’ll take you.”

“Why should we trust you?” Dean asked gruffly.

“I was going to help, I feel involved now. Besides, I owe you for taking out Ishim, that guy was a prick.” Balthazar held out his hand again, as Joe gave him his glass back, completely full. 

“Wait, wait, how do we prepare for this? What do we need?” Duncan asked, before they just went barging into another fight where they were outnumbered.

“Balthazar, we need some holy oil, Joe, do you have some empty bottles?” Dean asked.

“I have a whole bin full.” Joe said. 

“Perfect. I’ll teach you how to make some anti-angel Molotov cocktails.” Dean looked a little too excited about this. 

Balthazar gave him a scandalized look, but after a swig of red wine he disappeared again in search of holy oil.


	6. Losses

When he came back Dean had lined up all the empty bottles in the bar along the bar and was tearing up Joe’s bar rags. 

“Anything special we have to do to make these?” Joe asked. 

Dean nodded, “Oil in the bottle, rag in the top, light ‘em and throw.” 

“Simple enough,” Duncan tapped his fingers on the bar. “You’ve done this before?”

“Once or twice,” Dean said.

Duncan felt the buzz, and looked around, hoping that the angels had brought back Methos, instead he saw the doors of the bar open. 

“There you are MacLeod, I thought you would be at the Dojo, and here I find you day drinking.” Amanda, her hair short as ever though back to black now, swept into the room like a whirlwind, walking up to Duncan without paying one bit of attention to anything else. “Joe, fetch me my usual.”

Joe opened his mouth, but then she noticed Dean standing there and she smiled wide. “Who’s your handsome friend, Duncan, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Dean, this is Amanda, Amanda, Dean,” He introduced them reluctantly. 

Amanda grinned at his surliness and held out a hand to Dean who took it up and shook it. Much to her chagrin. 

“Duncan always has the most handsome acquaintances.” She flirted, trying to get a rise out of Duncan. As usual.

“Great to see you Amanda, but we are dealing with a bit of a situation.” Duncan said, wanting to keep her as far out of this as possible.

“What sort of situation?” Amanda asked. “Anything i can assist with?” 

Just then Balthazar returned, holding two dusty ancient clay jugs in his hands. “These weren’t easy to find. Apologies.”

“A really big situation.” Joe said. 

Amanda’s eyes got round as saucers. 

Before Amanda lost it Duncan grabbed her by the shoulders and made her look at him. “Methos was taken. We are going to get him back, there isn’t really time to explain everything, but we are umm fighting some angels with the help of an angel.” If anyone could handle weird shit, it was Amanda. The woman thrived in chaos.

It only took her a moment to process, “If Methos is in trouble I’m there. What do you need me to do?” 

Duncan exchanged a look with Dean, asking silent permission. Dean shrugged, “The more the merrier.”

“Dean was about to teach us to make some holy oil molotov cocktails.”

Amanda started to roll up her fashionable sleeves. “Sounds just up my alley.”

Duncan chuckled at her and they all gathered around Dean.

Dean took one jug and started pouring oil into the first bottle, and Duncan grabbed up the other jug, starting at the other side. 

They quickly filled Amanda in on what was going on as quickly as they could, while they filled bottles. Dean explained what they needed to do. 

“It won’t necessarily kill them, but it usually forces them to abandon their vessel and slows them down. We need to get rid of as many of the goons as possible, I will try and free Jack, you get Methos. Hopefully with the distraction Castiel can get free.”

“We shouldn’t return here, the angels already know this place.” Methos told them. Duncan took his advice seriously, the man was good at threat assessment after all. 

“Where to then?” Joe asked.

“Paris?” Duncan asked, Dean frowned. “I have a barge there, there is no reason for them to know where it is or why we would go there, would that gain us some time?”

“It might be enough and once we get there I can set up some wards.” Dean said, “Balthy, can you read his mind and figure out how to get there?”

Balthazar sighed and walked over to Duncan, placing two fingers to temple. Duncan felt like he’d been doused in cold water as the man rifled through his head. 

“Hmm, you really are old for a human,” Balthazar grumbled.

“You didn’t believe me?” Duncan asked, bemused.

Balthazar shrugged.

“Okay, each of you take one, Joe, you have any matches or lighters?” Dean asked, pulling his zippo out. 

“It’s a bar, of course we do,” Joe said throwing a matchbook with Joe’s scrawled in neon pink letters across the cover. Dean looked at the matchbook like it was an ancient relic. 

“I forgot this used to be a thing.” Dean shook his head. “You can’t smoke indoors most places anymore.” Joe looked confused by this statement.

“Joe, you should stay here,” Duncan told him as he came out from behind the bar to join the group gathering around Balthazar. 

“I’ll be fine,” Joe looked hurt. “Not having legs never stopped me before.”

“We have Amanda, she’s less vulnerable than you.” Duncan insisted. 

“I’m not staying behind, MacLeod.” 

“Okay, you all ready?” Dean interrupted them. 

Duncan nodded and let Joe pass him to join the group. He couldn’t keep anyone safe from these angels anyway. 

They all gathered around the angel as he told them to hang on tight to the cocktails.

They counted to three and the world went white.

::

Dean felt a dizzying sense of deja vu that brought up a lot of feelings in the pit of his stomach. The Lawrence Cemetery was just as he remembered it, though slightly greener this time of year. The younger Cas was holding the real Cas at bay as they circled around the spot that had opened up to hell when Sam had fallen into the pit. Three angels were holding Jack down on the ground and Methos was harrying his captor, and one other angel with his own blade, a long red cut scarring half his face. 

Duncan shouted and lit his ass-butt cocktail with ease, throwing it at the angel attacking his boyfriend. Dean wanted to attack the alt-Cas, but they were moving too fast, switching places and winging this way and that. He moved his attention to the three kicking Jack, and indicated to Amanda, “Don’t hurt the one on the ground!”

Amanda nodded and lit her cocktail, they both threw theirs at the same time. Dean was impressed with her aim as they both hit their targets.

One of the angels rushed at Joe, and he smashed his cocktail at his feet, catching him on fire completely, as Joe fell backwards to get out of the way of the flames. The angel disappeared. Dean and Amanda rushed the angels kicking Jack, and got them off the boy. Duncan rushed to Methos’s side, Katana out slicing at the angels while Methos fought with the stolen angel blade in his hands. 

The fighting was fierce, Dean and Amanda took out the two angels they had burned, Duncan hamstrung one angel, and Methos managed to stab him in the chest with the angel blade. 

Cas and Castiel circled and attacked each other like mini whirlwinds, both striking cuts and blows on each other in turns. 

The third angel that had been on Jack held off Amanda and Dean in turns, but they quickly dispatched of him as well. 

Duncan and the other angel got into a bout of blows taking them away from the fight, and Balthazar helped up Joe, not bothering to get his hands dirty. 

Soon all the angels were subdued and they all stood watching in silence as Cas and Castiel fought on. 

Jack got to his feet and staggered towards Dean, “Dean we have to stop them.”

“How? I’ve never seen a fight like this.”

“No, something is wrong, we can't let them kill each other.”

“I-”

Jack turned and shouted “CASTIEL!” His eyes flashing yellow, Dean turned and tackled Jack to the ground. 

“No Jack, you can’t use your powers!”

“Dean!”

Duncan started to move towards the pair, “MacLeod! Stop being a bloody hero!”

“That’s my line,” Amanda said, looking curiously at Methos. Methos looked over at her and they exchanged a meaningful look. 

Duncan came into the flurry, Katana raised high and swung in, once, twice, thrice. The carefully balanced fight, fell apart and Cas and parallel-Castiel fell apart to the ground. 

“Enough!”

Dean rushed forward to check on Cas, placing a hand on his cut arm. Cas didn’t look at him, blade still raised in defense of the angel. The young Cas, got to his feet, but by that time Duncan, Amanda and Jack were in his way.

Then he looked around at all the dead angels in the field, and the spouts of angel fire still burning, and growled. 

“This isn’t over!” Young Cas told them, and flew away.

“Balthazar, Cas, Jack, get us out of here!” Dean yelled. “Follow Balthazar!” He added to his family.

The cemetery disappeared and they found themselves in a long room with a bunch of furniture covered in sheets. 

::

“Mac? Why are we in Paris?” Amanda asked, looking around. 

“We thought it would be a good place to hide,” Dean said, grabbing his knife and cutting a spot on his arm to get some blood. “Cas, help me get this place warded.”

“Well I have enough blood dripping off of me,” Cas said, walking to the opposite wall and scrawling odd symbols in blood on the wall in his own blood.

“Why are you coating the walls with blood?” Amanda asked, looking like she might throw up.

“They are angel wards, this will keep them from being able to see us, or come inside the building,” Castiel explained. 

“Can I help?” Duncan asked.

“Can you copy this symbol on the wall over there? In blood?” Dean asked as he worked. 

“Won’t that keep you out?” Joe asked Balthazar.

“Not if we are already inside, love,” Balthazar told him. 

Amanda sidled up to Duncan as he started on the ward on his window above the bed. “So MacLeod…”

“Thank you for coming to help Amanda,” Duncan interrupted her.

“Oh, not a problem. You’ve gotten me out of a few scrapes, i figure I owe you.”

“Uh, Duncan?” Methos hovered behind Amanda. “You need some more blood, I have some cuts if that will help.” His smile was mischevious for some reason. 

Duncan looked up at Methos, their eyes meeting. Duncan couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips. Relief that he was now safe suffused him. He had been so afraid of losing him. 

Methos returned his gaze with interest. They stood their, eyes locked for a long minute.

Amanda looked at them, her head whipping from one to the other. She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. 

Duncan tore his gaze from Methos “Amanda…”

“No, I uh, I see…” Amanda’s usually flamboyant nature going a bit subdued. 

Methos turned to her, and held out his hand that wasn’t covered in blood. “Stay and help us.” He shot an apologetic look at Duncan. “We should all talk.”

::

Dean looked over at Duncan, Methos and Amanda, as they talked earnestly as they tried to copy the angel warding. By the time they had completed their symbol they had all relaxed and were laughing and touching. Dean looked over at Castiel as he showed Jack the angels wards.

“I suppose I should learn more Enochian,” Jack was saying. Dean walked up to them, putting his arm around both. 

“Hey,” he greeted them. Jack gave him that smile that was all innocence. 

“Cas is teaching me the enochian symbols,” Jack said brightly. 

“Yeah, I guess we should have taught you those sooner,” Dean said, feeling a bit guilty for being so lax.

Jack nodded, he looked between Cas and Dean and said, “I’ll help out the others.” He said, and Dean let his arm drop as he left, but he kept his arm around Castiel. 

“Cas, I wanted to talk with you.” 

Cas finished the last line of his ward, and turned to him. “About what, Dean?”

“About what we were talking about before you left.” Dean took his arm off of him and grabbed up his hands. “I-” he cleared his throat and the words stuck in his throat.

Cas frowned and looked ready to leave again. But Dean put a hand on his hand, holding him lightly by the wrist. 

The words wouldn't come. He forced himself to look into those blue eyes and words came flooding out of him. “I was a mess when you died. I don’t think I told you. I know I didn’t. I fell apart. I was so angry. I missed you so damn much. And I was kicking myself for thinking…” he looked away Cas’s knowing gaze was too much for him. 

“Thinking what, Dean?”

“Thinking I had more time. Time to finally tell you that I love you too. I never said it back when you were dying from the spear wound.” Dean knew he had tears in his eyes, as he poured his guts out. 

“Dean…” Cas’s hand pushed his chin up so he was looking him in the eyes and Dean leaned forward to kiss him.

Cas dropped his hands and wrapped his arms around him as he kissed him back, hard. Cas’s bloody hand resting on his left shoulder, the old scar tingled as if it remembered his touch. Dean kissed him back reveling in the feel of lips he had stared at for years wondering what they would taste like, feel like, under his own. 

Someone cleared his throat behind them well before he was done with his angel. “I see you are having a moment with your human, but the other Castiel is still coming for us, and I suspect he will bring Anna and the rest of the garrison down on us at any moment. Any chance you have a plan?” Balthazar did not seem amused. “I would also like to remind you that I stuck out my neck to help you, so any plan that involves me not being killed on sight would be preferable.”

Dean seriously wanted to punch Balthazar in the face for interrupting them. But he let Cas go. 

“Well, we have Jack, we just need to get back to our universe.” Dean said quickly, trying not to lose it. 

“Fantastic, and how do we facilitate that.” Balthazar asked. 

“I have the spell here,” Cas said, pulling out the much folded and now blood stained papers from his coat pocket.

Balthazar scanned the document quickly then his eyes flicked to meet Cas’s. “You can’t be serious.”

Cas said, “I am always serious.” 

Dean smirked at his boyfriend, finally understanding his sense of humor.

::

Balthatzar wasn’t exaggerating the magnitude of the ingredients difficulty, one obvious one being that in this world there were no monsters. So a werewolf bone and vampire blood were not just hard to find, but actually didn’t exist in this reality.

Cas and Balthazar went off to a corner of the barge to try and suss out ingredient substitutes from this realm. Dean still have the crystal focus that Rowena had provided, which came as a great relief as witchcraft seemed mythical here as well.

Amanda had gotten bored of waiting and had said she needed to go shopping, so Methos had joined Duncan at the barges onsite bar while they made drinks for everyone from the little stock he had left. Mostly hard alcohol.

Methos kept touching his arms and hands as they worked. They had had a quick discussion with Amanda, explaining, in short covert terms what was going on. Amanda had laughed at them both telling them it was hardly her first rodeo with complicated relationships and had then kissed them both, very inappropriately. 

That had largely gone unnoticed as Dean and Cas had been loudly declaring their love for one another at the same time, though Duncan could probably guess that Joe hadn’t missed much being his watcher. He could probably get the whole story later.

Dean sauntered over to the bar, glancing back at the angel conference. Jack had joined them as well, giving his input.

“You think they can figure it out?” Methos asked Dean.

Dean grabbed the proffered glass of whiskey and grunted. “If not i guess we better figure out how to make a new life here. Or hope my brother figures out he needs to come get us.”

“Your brother?”

“Sam, yeah. We don’t usually work separately, but Cas could only bring one passenger.” Dean said.

“How is he going to get you both through then?” Amanda asked them, looking concerned. 

“Jack has wings of his own, though we don't really want him to use them. He got sick a little while back and his powers are now connected to his soul. Every time he uses it it burns him up a bit.” Duncan explained, giving Jack a look. 

“That sounds ominous.” Duncan said.

“Yeah, you can live without a soul, but you become… heartless. Effects everyone a little different, but it’s never an improvement and often downright terrifying.” Dean knew he sounded like a concerned mother. 

“We often have the opposite problem.” Duncan confided.

“What do you mean?” 

Methos answered, “We are full of other immortals power or essence, sometimes the type of person we… absorb can affect who we are.” Methos glanced at Duncan, but he did not elaborate on his dark quickening. Duncan was grateful and bumped him lightly with his hip.

“Like...you kill too many evil people you become evil?” Jack deduced. 

“Or you kill too many good people and become good. Happened to one of my friends. He conquered half a Europe as a general, story goes that he killed a holy man at the gates of Paris. When the quickening was over he lay down his arms and disbanded his armies. He became a priest and lived in a monastery the rest of his life.” Thoughts of Darius always made him emotional and Methos placed a hand on his lower back to comfort him. 

Dean nodded, “Interesting. Wish we could infuse Jack with some extra soul.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, and I’d appreciate it if we could all keep our heads,” Duncan said. 

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “I wasn’t planning on killing any of you.”

“Okay, what could we use as a power source, the crystal is just a focus, without the energy from the blood and bones, what do we do?”

“You could kill someone for me. I don’t care who gets the quickening,” Amanda chimes in.

Everyone turned to look at her. She gave a look of all innocence. 

“What are you up to Amanda?”

“Well I had come to you to ask for your help with a little problem I was having with a former beau of mine. If we need a quickening to help this lad out…”

“I really don’t think anyone but an immortal can get a quickening.” Joe said skeptical at best with the plan.

“And it isn’t as if we have time to train him up in sword fighting,” Methos added.

“I know how to fight!” Jack told them all.

“Sword fighting is a little different from shooting a gun, son.” Methos explained. Jack looked ready to defend his stance but Dean spoke up.

“You can handle a blade and chop off a head, but they are right Jack. You’ve never gone up against someone trained in sword fighting techniques. I doubt I could do what I saw Duncan doing out there. It's a whole different animal from what I taught you.” Dean really fid not like the thought of Jack beheading people. 

Duncan, Methos, and Amanda straightened up looking around as if they could hear something the rest of them couldn’t. Duncan moved to pick up his katana and the others followed suit. “Looks like your friend found us Amanda.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” She grumbled. “That’s why i asked why the hell we were in Paris!”

Dean was watching the immortals as they made their way to the door so he wasn’t watching Jack. But he felt the wind on his face and heard the rustle of wings as he disappeared.

“Cas follow Jack!” Dean yelled

Cas was already gone without taking the time to acknowledge the request almost before he had spoken. Too late he realized they would both now be on the other side of the wardings they had to carefully put up.

“Damn it!” 

Duncan had led the other two outside leaving himself Joe and Balthazar inside the barge. 

“Well, shall we go join the fun?” Dean asked them sarcastically.

Just then the barge rocked as the sound of many feet landing on the deck.

“I think the angels are here,” Joe observed

“Yes and they aren't happy, ” Balthazar mused. “I’ll just stay here and keep out of trouble. You two can do what you want.”

Joe walked over to a window and looked out, Dean decided to follow his lead. Outside was chaos, angels swarmed the barge, and Jack was squaring off with a dude in a trench coat weilding an angel blade against his broadsword. Cas stood on the sidelines with Amanda looking worried but not interfering with the fight.

Dean made to run out to join them when the door burst in and Methos and Duncan backed into the room slashing at angels who were repelled at the threshold where the wardings held.

“I guess I’m staying here,” He ran back to the window and saw some angels, young Cas included, were coming over to the bank to watch the fight. Cas produced the machete from his coat and with Amanda they held off the angels from grabbing them. 

Jack was holding his own. Dean felt himself swell with pride watching him fight. Maybe they had not neglected his skills as bad as they had worried. 

And then it happened, Jack caught a blade to the side. His cry of pain distracted Cas and an angel was able to grab him. 

“Balthazar, can’t you help him?” Dean shouted.

“Fine,” and he disappeared appearing amongst the fighting angels in time to slash the arm of the one holding Cas. 

Now with the three of them, the angels weren’t so overwhelming. 

His worry for Cas relieved temporarily, he turned his attention back to Jack just as he was chopping the man’s head off. 

It took him a second to realize he had somehow stolen the man’s broadsword to do it. Dean nodded his approval as it would have been a little difficult with the angel blade. 

Everything around Jack stopped as the immortals head hit the cobblestones. 

A wind picked up and the clouds gathered just as Dean had seen before. The angels all stood down to watch as if this was something sacred.

Cas and Balthazar didn’t completely put down their guard but they watched. Amanda dropped her sword and braced herself.

“She will get the quickening since she’s the closest of us.” Duncan explained to Dean. 

“I thought whoever killed him got it.” Dean said, he knew they had to be immortal, but he wondered if that was the case here.

“Only if they are immortal like us,” Duncan asserted. 

Dean wondered what it would do to an immortal like Jack instead but decided they would all find out soon.

Lightning snaked from the sky and struck down.

Jack convulsed with the hit and dropped to his knees. Everyone gaped at the sight. Dean felt his stomach clench in worry for Jack. Their son. His eyes found Cas who looked ready to go pick up Jack even with the lightning strikes hitting him. Dean had no doubt he would if he needed too. 

The white light emerged from the dead immortal and rose up to Jack who convulsed once more with the power and the white light surrounded him. 

The high pitched angelic whine arose in the air and the yellow light of Jack himself blossomed fourth bathing everyone in its light. 

The white light was absorbed and the lightning subsided. Cas was right at Jack’s side. Light show over, Dean ran outside ignoring the stunned angels to join his family.

“Jack! Jack are you okay?” He pleaded with his boy, gently slapping his face.” 

Jack was breathing heavy but nodded. “I think so. I feel, and his eyes glowed yellow for a moment. He smiled softly. “I feel like myself again.”

Dean caught Cas’s eye, they exchanged a worried, but hopeful look and moved to help Jack to his feet.

“So you are me from a parallel universe? And you expect me to be okay with you and your human spouse and nephilim son?” Young Castiel asked Cas seriously confused.

“I expect you to respect yourself enough to understand killing me won’t quash the doubts in your heart,” Cas told him.

Dean added, placing a hand in Cas’s shoulder “Let us go home and you will never have to deal with us again.” Cas seemed most swayed by this argument. 

Balthazar also chimed in. “I for one would like to go back to heaven and forget this ever happened. We have other problems on the horizon and these immortals will be at the center. I don’t think the intruders are part of this plot.”

“Arumen.” Young Cas murmured. 

“Can we just erase these fools memories and be done with it.” Young Castiel nodded.

“Wait!” Duncan and Methos protested. “Why?”

“You are part of a larger plan son, I can’t have you believing in angels when the devil shows his face. It would spoil the fun.”

“No deal!” Dean called out halting the angels in their tracks. “I will fight every one of you. Let them remember maybe it will help them fight the devil. Having fought him several times with the help of angels it's not that much of an advantage.”

“Angels on earth are not to be remembered. It isn't done.”

“Then just erase yourselves, memory of us won’t change much.” Dean put in.

“You aren’t a part of this human.” Castiel told him. 

“That’s my point,” Dean grumbled.

“Can you just be sure to leave the memories that don’t have to do with angels and demons intact?” Duncan pleaded.

“Fine, we will do our best to leave other events in your memory. There will be some gaps.” 

The uneasy truce settled they moved to make their goodbyes before the jump home. 

“Well Highlander, I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality.” Dean said, giving Duncan a hearty handshake. Duncan pulled him in for a hug, slapping him on the back. 

“It was nice meeting you and your family,” Duncan agreed. 

Dean nodded at Amanda, Methos, and Joe. “Likewise. Take care. Just try to remember that the Devil, whoever he is in this universe, lies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Duncan agreed.

“See that you do.”

::

After their goodbyes, the angels helped them with the magic spell and Jack punched a hole through space and time with his newly restored powers. 

They landed back in the bunker and collapsed. 

Sam stood up from the desk next to the spell components and stacks of books looking startled. “What the hell?” 

“Hey Sam!” Dean said crawling out from under Cas. 

“You were only gone for like 3 minutes. How’d you find him so fast?” Sam asked, putting down his book.”

“We have been in that other universe for 37 hours and 22 minutes” Cas corrected him.

“Not on this plane of existence.” Sam was moving around the table to come help Jack up, “Jack are you okay?”

“I’m myself again,” he told Sam brightly. 

“What happened?” Sam asked them all again. 

“There can be only one,” Dean told him.


	7. Epilogue

“You never watched this?” Sam asked him, incredulous. 

“Sam, I had no idea there was anything other than the movie.”

“But that’s him? That’s the guy you met?”

“Down to the long hair and “Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.” Dean said, still baffled. “So what’s this dude’s name in real life?”

Sam typed out something on the laptop,“Uh, Adrian Paul.”

“Dean, why do you care what his counterpart’s name is here in our universe?” Jack asked, sitting down in front of the TV on the floor with a bowl of heavily buttered popcorn.

“I dunno, in our parallel Hollywood lives we had weird ass names. I just wanted to know what his was. Turns out his is pretty normal.” Dean said, kind of disappointed. 

“Also the dude is British, not Scottish.” Sam was saying as he perused the IMDB pages. 

“What about that Methos character?” Dean asked, stealing a giant handful of popcorn from Jack’s bowl.

“Uh, Peter Wingfield, his character doesn’t show up until the third season. Says here he’s now a medical doctor and only acts occasionally.” Sam made a little huff of surprise. 

“Wingfield?” Dean laughed, “That’s almost as bad as Padeleski.”

“Padalecki,” Sam corrected. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why do you even remember that?"

“Oh and this Amanda character, Elizabeth Gracen, was the 1982 Miss America winner.”

“Well, she was hot,” Dean said. 

Sam gave Dean a strange look, as Cas lifted his head from Dean’s shoulder to stare back at him. 

“What? I’m still the same me Sam, I just have a boyfriend now,” Dean told him, absently giving Cas a peck on the lips. 

“Bisexuality is a real thing Sam,” Cas explained. Kissing Dean on the cheek. 

Sam pinched his lips and nodded. “Right, I know.” 

Cas curled up closer to Dean on the couch, as Queen sang out the opening credits of the pilot episode of Highlander the Series. It was good to be home.


End file.
